


Three Heads

by clutzycricket



Series: For and Against the Devil [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4501743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clutzycricket/pseuds/clutzycricket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhaegar Targaryen, demon of despair, has three children.</p><p>They make three different choices with their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Heads

“Elia,” Rhaegar, Silver Prince of Dragonstone and Lord of Despair, was glaring at his former wife. “Do you know what my daughter is doing?”

Elia finished reviewing the last bit of paperwork before looking up. “Making you pout like a sulking hellhound?” She looked up and smiled at him without a hint of guile.

“She is taking mortal classes,” Rhaegar said, crossing his arms.

Elia looked at her office, which was a lawyer’s office. A very normal-seeming civil rights lawyer’s office, unless you knew your magical theory. “They are useful,” she said, twirling her fingers to showcase everything around them.

“She could live in the Court,” Rhaegar pointed out, as if that didn’t matter in his mind.

Elia tapped the handle of her wheelchair. “Do you remember what the Court did to me?”

“The MS wasn’t my fault,” Rhaegar snapped.

“The Mountain  _was_ ,” Elia snarled, that old rage and hurt welling up. He hurt her by existing, untouched by the trouble he caused. “Your daughter in a hospital bed with less skin together then torn open  _was_. Tywin Lannister walking away and all the deaths since? The MS just made my life harder. Your daughter clung to the medical aspects of her recovery, and taking care of me, of helping Arianne with Doran. She’s good at it, and she loves it. You took my son, Rhaegar, and he is less human every time I see him. Rhaenys can’t be what you want, not with what was done to her, so let her find her path.”

~

Aegon was charming, and bright, and something was not quite normal about him, the Sand Snakes agreed. Arianne had watched her aunt’s sad expression, and wondered what had driven her to accept a fairy’s suit.

“Blue,” Arianne said, one day when Aegon’s jokes were a little too off, because everyone called him that, after a hair dye prank that took too long to wash out. “I need you to do something. Not a favor, but a rule of hospitality.” She knew the basic rules out of Rhae, and that was the best way to handle it.

“What is it, cuz?” Aegon asked, wide lilac eyes puzzled.

“Keep an eye on Aunt Elia’s face when you visit, or mine,” Arianne said, very seriously. “If we aren’t there, stick to Little Bit. She sucks at hiding her expression. If you see pain on Aunt Elia’s face, disapproval on mine, or Little Bit going ‘what the fuck’, then stop, review your behavior, and act more human. Aunt doesn’t need that shit, and I’ll sic Uncle on you. She got enough of it from your jackass of a dad, and if no one else will tell you, I  _ **will**_.”

Aegon gulped and nodded.

He wasn’t perfect, but Arianne smiled to herself when she noticed the improvement in his behavior. 

~

Rhaenys was sitting cross-legged on her bed, watching the door warily. “It’s Dad,” she said, not that Jon needed it. “Think your mother is with him?”

“Probably not,” Jon said. “Mom is…” he shook out his curls. “Of mixed opinions on me doing this. She won’t stop me, but she won’t go against Dad.”

Rhaenys made a face. “I have a tire iron I keep for uninvited guests,” she offered. He snorted. “No, really, I’ll chalk it up to therapy.”

“It won’t look good for my FBI application,” Jon pointed out. She had smothered him in a comforter and a cup of tea after hearing about the fight, which was silly but comforting. He’d gone to the sibling who had experience pissing off Dad with this kind of thing. She’d offered him sympathy and a couch until they sorted everything.

“I can, however, use my pointy manners,” Rhaenys offered. “It gets under his skin good. And Quent is a shiny new lawyer, he can argue for you.”

Jon laughed. 

“What’s your goal, anyway?” Rhae asked, head tilted. “You are an ambitious little fuck. Not that I don’t love you, but you have a plan.”

“Missing persons,” Jon shrugged. “Have to admit I’d be useful.”

Rhaenys laughed, before bouncing off the bed. “Right. You, blankets off, I deal with Papa Prissypants,” she called, skipping through the tiny apartment.

Jon nearly fell off the bed laughing when he heard the door open.

“You are  _far_ too much like your mother,” their father grumped.


End file.
